Julius Caesar by Tony Bradman

Author:Tony Bradman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A&C Black
Published: 2011-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

ACT FOUR

ARMIES ON THE MARCH

The streets of Rome were filled once more with restless crowds, although perhaps mobs would be a better word. Until Antony’s funeral speech, the people had been frightened by what had happened, uncertain what to believe or who to support. But Antony had made things easy. Now they were sure Caesar had been a hero, and that the plotters should pay dearly for what they’d done.

The mobs knew where Brutus and Cassius and the others lived, and by the evening their houses were burning, the flames lighting the sky over the city. Most of the plotters managed to escape, fleeing with little more than the clothes they wore, but some were caught and torn limb from limb. One man – the poet Cinna – was unlucky enough to die because he had the same name as a plotter.

Mark Antony stood at the window of his grand villa watching the blood-red sky. Lying on couches behind him were Octavius and Lepidus, a man older than the other two, and much richer as well. Lepidus wore a toga, but Antony had changed into his military uniform, his breastplate reflecting the distant fires, his short sword – the gladius of the legions – in a scabbard at his side. Octavius was in uniform, too, but he was still covered in the dust and dirt of his journey.

Antony turned and walked over to a low table. A heap of papyrus rolls stood on it, each one covered with a long list of names. None of the three men had enough supporters to claim power alone now Caesar was gone, so they had decided to join forces. They had begun by working out who they could count on and, more importantly, who would be against them. ‘These then shall die,’ said Antony, picking up one of the rolls. ‘Their names are all marked.’

‘Your brother, too, Lepidus,’ said Octavius. Caesar’s heir was very young, barely a grown man, and quite slender. But he had a strong face with a faint resemblance to Caesar, and an air of certainty about him. ‘Do you agree?’

Lepidus shrugged. ‘So long as Antony’s nephew Publius dies, too.’

‘That’s all right by me,’ said Antony. ‘Look, I’ve damned him with a cross against his name. Listen, Lepidus, I think you should go to Caesar’s house and dig out a copy of his will. We need to look at it and make sure we don’t give away too much of his fortune in legacies, whatever he might have wanted…’

Octavius smiled to himself. He knew Mark Antony had made a great show of telling the people at Caesar’s funeral how generous Caesar had been in his will, and that many would benefit from it. But that had just been to keep the fools in the streets on their side. He and Antony weren’t stupid enough to give away Caesar’s money when they needed all they could get to pay for the coming war.

‘Er, good idea!’ said Lepidus, hurrying off.

Antony scowled after him.

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